


Family Dinner

by OnceAndFloral



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: A healthy mix of shenanigans and angst at the end, A little emotional manipulation, Other, Unrequited family dynamics, an attempt at comedy, eldritch bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceAndFloral/pseuds/OnceAndFloral
Summary: Dinner with the yog-sothoth family
Relationships: Lyfrassir Edda/Gunpowder Tim
Comments: 4
Kudos: 111





	Family Dinner

Tim is sitting at a dinner table. He doesn't know how he got here. The last thing he remembers is falling asleep with Lyfrassir after they let him info dump about different kinds of weaponry and how different systems harness plasma, and now it doesn't even look like he's on the Aurora. 

The table is a deep brown laid over with hand knitted placemats, and the walls are covered in wallpaper so garish it made Tim’s eyes hurt. Trying to adjust his visual settings didn't do anything, the colors still burned.

His attention is suddenly brought to the seat next to him when he realizes Lyfrassir is sitting there, repeatedly stabbing what were either peeled grapes, eyeballs, or an unholy matrimony of the two with a fork.

“What happened?” Tim hisses.

“This is a dream,” Lyfrassir's tone is flat. “Don't do anything too crazy, though, I'm pretty sure they can still do shit to you here.”

“They…?”

A woman with grey hair enters the room with a bowl full of something definitely inedible. As soon as Tim sees the eyepatch he knows who it is. “Odin.”

“Timothy!” She greets as though he hadn't said her name with utter disdain. “Welcome! You know, Lyfrassir, I'm just so glad you brought someone to dinner.”

“Yea, well, I didn't know sharing a bed meant sharing brain waves. Silly me for thinking I understood how my body works.” They stab one orb particularly hard and it explodes in a small burst of ooze.

“That's no way to talk on Christmas dinner.”

“None of us celebrate Christmas!” Lyfrassir points their fork at Tim. “Do you celebrate it?”

“Uh, no.”

They throw their hands up. “See? The least you could have done is chosen a holiday from the Yggdrasil system.”

“Oh, Lyfrassir, I'm not going to entertain your ‘New Midgardian’ versions of the holidays.” She said _New Midgardian_ as if the word physically left a sour taste in her mouth. Tim was ready to shoot her on behalf of Lyfrassir, but he found his holster empty when he reached for it. Apparently astral projection did not apply to guns.

Odin leaves the room as Lyfrassir slumps back in their chair. “I'm so sorry, Tim, I would have left the room if I knew this would happen.”

“Does this happen often?” He asks.

“I guess so? I'm at varying levels of lucidity during my dreams. This is the most ‘together’ I've ever felt.”

That doesn't sound… Fun. “What would probably happen if I went on a violent rampage wherein I killed Odin?”

“While I appreciate the sentiment, I wouldn't do that. She's kind of all-powerful here and some of the things she can do bleeds back into the waking world.”

“So, we're just supposed to sit here and eat Christmas dinner while she condescends to us?”

“That's the gist of it, yes.”

“Thrilling.”

Odin walked into the room again, this time carrying a turkey(?). Tim wasn’t quite sure that’s what it was, it had a very odd green coloring to the skin that didn’t look quite natural. She set it down on the table then faced Lyfrassir with her hands on her hips.

“Yog-Sothoth is going to be here soon so I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

“Oh, on my best behavior for the guy who ate my home? Maybe he should be on his best behavior for me, and bring some apology flowers while he’s at it.”

“You are being _incorrigible_ tonight.” She sits across the table from them, hands folded in her lap. Tim was finding he had a newfound admiration for Lyfrassir.

A wave of nausea suddenly rolls over Tim, powerful enough to send him doubling over in his seat. Lyfrassir makes a concerned noise, but Tim holds up a hand to stop them from making any moves to help.

“Just give me a second,” He hisses through gritted teeth.

The whole world is tilted at an odd angle as he slowly sits back up. It takes Tim a few seconds to realize there’s someone (something? fuck.) sitting next to Odin on the other side of the table. It looks like it’s too big to be taking up as little space as is, as though space itself has creased at certain places to accomodate for it. It’s also ridiculously hard to look at it, even with mechanical eyes. The best Tim can describe it as is vaguely spherical.

“Great, the idiot’s son has showed up,” Lyfrassir glowers.

“Lteg'netoer retdinos lehb ebnee.” Oh, wow, holy shit just hearing the thing speak gives Tim one of the biggest headaches of his life. He doesn’t understand a word of it, and trying to makes the pain even worse, so he just stops. 

“I’ll be as belligerent as I want to be.” Does Lyfrassir understand him? What the fuck was happening? Tim feels like he’s at Thanksgiving dinner with his datemate’s family.

Somehow Tim can tell that Yog-Sothoth’s gaze has turned to him, even though there aren’t any eyes on him that he can see. “Ehyoden uby irfsoir?” 

“I would just love it so much if you didn't try to intrude on my personal life,” Lyfrassir snaps, fixing him with a hard glare.

“Don't talk to your step father like that,” Odin scolds.

“He's not my father!”

“Ptrymtu ths oe' otlyendearol.” Tim really wishes Yog-Sothoth would shut the fuck up.

“You can't have two step parents and no biological ones! That's not how families fucking work!”

Tim had no fucking clue what was going on, but Lyfrassir was starting to get panicked. Their nails dug into the wood of the table, suddenly deep black in color. He took one of Lyfrassir’s hands and held it between them underneath the table. Their nails still cut into his hand deep enough to draw blood, but he thinks that it’s nothing he’s not used to.

“Are we… supposed to eat?” Tim asks. No one else around the table has yet to reach for the food.

“Ah yes, that’s what this is for.” Odin leans forward on her elbows. “Please, feel free to dig in.”

Tim realizes that maybe he didn’t really want to eat the grapes-slash-eyes and the green turkey, and maybe he shouldn’t have said anything about it.

“I think I’m actually going to pass on that. I ate a lot before falling asleep and getting pulled into a dream dimension.”

“You know what they say about eating and traveling across large distances,” Lyfrassir agrees. Thank god for them.

Odin still frowns at that. “I put a lot of effort into making this.”

“You didn’t even know he was _coming.”_

“Still.” 

Lyfrassir looks like they’re about ready to strangle Odin to death, Yog-Sothoth be damned. Tim is honestly very willing to hold her down for them, but that seems a little impulsive for the situation. This was going to be the one time Tim thought through his actions, dammit.

“It’s very frustrating that you don’t appreciate the things I do for you.” Tim hears Lyfrassir stop breathing at Odin’s words. “I do so much and it all goes to the wayside.”

“Soe o thrl nu'iewraeae evear y,” Yog-Sothoth says in that nails-on-a-chalkboard voice. Whatever he said, it feels like acid dripping down the back of Tim’s throat. 

“I’m not going to fall for this again,” Lyfrassir’s voice shakes as they say this. Something about this is getting to them.

“You’re already selfish enough for dragging him into this.” She gestures to Tim.

“I didn’t mean to!” There’s an edge of desperation to their tone, like they were trying to convince themself the same thing.

“Oh, come now, we both know what really happened.”

Tim stands from his seat, placing both his hands on the table. “Wow, you know it’s so weird but I have to go clean my eyes and I need Lyfrassir’s help. It’s a human thing.”

He loops his arm through one of Lyfrassir’s and stalks out of the room before anyone can say something. What he had assumed to be a kitchen was actually a train car, one of the nice ones with gold edging. Tim closes the door behind them.

“Are they going to follow us?” He asks.

“I-I don’t think so.”

“Can they hear us?”

“I don’t know.”

Fuck it. “How do we wake up?”

“It usually just happens, I don’t… I’m usually too despondent to try and wake up from these things.”

“What happens if we die? Do you think that would work?”

Lyfrassir hesitates. “I don’t know if I can die while I’m here.”

They say that in a way that lets Tim know there’s a story behind it that they need to talk about later, but he’ll think about that in a little bit. “Okay, just kill me and I’ll shake you awake.”

“Shit. Okay.” Lyfrassir lays their hands on his chest. “I’m really sorry if this hurts, this place isn’t very stable-”

“Hurry up, I’ve felt worse.” 

A shock jolts through his ribs and into his heart, but it’s not like normal electrical shocks. It feels cold, and like it’s tracing through his veins to get where it needs to go. Tim definitely dies, so step one of the plan works.

He sits up in bed, surrounded once again by the metal walls of the Aurora. Tim doesn’t have much time to celebrate, because he’s searching through the blankets for Lyfrassir. He finds them curled up into a ball on their side, gripping their head.

Tim places a hand on their shoulder and shakes them. “Lyfrassir. Lyfrassir, wake up.” Nothing happens for a few seconds, so he shakes them harder. “Wake _up!”_

As if from the command, Lyfrassir’s eyes snap open. “Tim?”

“Yea, it’s me. Are you okay?”

He cups their face in his hands as they sit up so he can study it for any signs of eldritch bullshit. Tim can feel them shivering under his touch.

“I don’t know, I… that was weird, right? That wasn’t normal?”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Okay, I’m not crazy.” They meet his eyes. “I’m not crazy.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, I saw it too.” He realizes his hands are still on their face, and he quickly drops them to his lap. “I’m going to kill that woman for you.”

“Tim-”

“You can’t talk me out of this. This is my next character arc.”

They smile weakly. “Blowing up moons and killing outer gods?”

“See? It’s not that hard. Challenge is good for the soul.” He hesitates for a second, then wraps his arms around Lyfrassir. They stiffen for only a second and then melt into the embrace like they’d been waiting for it their whole life.

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this bc tumblr egged me on to, this has been sitting in my docs since march.


End file.
